


In the pursuit of knowledge

by amarmeme



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Moving On, Self-Acceptance, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Temple of Mythal (Dragon Age), Vallaslin (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: Abelas believes he can recover what was lost, no matter the cost.Ellana has a thirst for knowledge..She hopes Abelas will be more forthcoming than Solas ever was.





	In the pursuit of knowledge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gamerfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamerfic/gifts).

_ Fingers traced the lines on skin; vellum-white against blue. A tap-tap against her forehead and the sky opened bright and blinding. A green-tinged palm covered the light until it too became difficult to look at, energy fizzing frenetically. The light grew wider and wider until it became all she could see, the outlines of her fingers barely visible in the glow. Squeezing her lids shut did nothing. Neither did averting her gaze. Sweat beaded down her brow; her chest grew tight. And then, something eclipsed her chartreuse sun. _

_ She fell into black. _

***

The hooded figure materialized at Skyhold’s gates at midnight, never having sent word, perhaps not realizing they ought to. As the visitor passed by the guards undisturbed, drifting snow swirled after the dusting tail of their cape, leaving little whorls in their wake.

Ellana Lavellan watched from beneath a courtyard tree, pressing further back against the bark. She held her breath in reverence, not willing to break what she’d seen. The guards should have stopped the figure, yet only a pattern in the snow betrayed his arrival. Magic, then.

Even in the dark she knew him. The very way he carried himself, his bare feet and yet the stature of a human. Elvhen were tall it seemed, the dalish were not. 

Her stomach coiled at the reminded refrain that stuck with her: _You are not my people. _First Solas, then Abelas. Was there no one alive who did not scorn _ her _people? Ellana swallowed it down and stared hungrily. She did not know why he came, but Solas was no longer here. There was knowledge within that imperious, hooded head; answers beyond what little Solas was willing to give and what Mythal’s servants would deign whisper to her within her own mind.

Abelas halted, cape falling still. He cocked his head towards her direction. Hearing nothing (she was sure of it), he resumed his course to the great hall -- plodding up the steps silently, hands clasped behind his back. Ellana could not see his golden eyes, but was certain they were shrewd and assessing, measuring her fortress up against Mythal’s. When she could no longer see him, Ellana stole away to the kitchen, chest bursting at the idea of resolution to her more desperate thoughts. The dreams that woke her up so late at night, pressing her to wander the grounds of Skyhold. 

*** 

He pretended he could not hear her, the beat of her heart, the measured give and take of her breath. The Inquisitor stood behind a door that was just adjar, observing. Waiting. Abelas warmed his hands in front of the fire. Despite his longer, thicker cloak, winter was fiercer than he remembered. So long he had spent in the south that he had forgotten the bite of cold. Forgotten many things. 

He had not lost his patience. A sentinel was tasked with the longest, most arduous duty. And while had ultimately failed her, the knowledge was not completely lost. Abelas would wait until the skittish creature approached. 

He was warmed through by the time she cleared her throat to alert her presence. As if he hadn’t known she’d snuck up behind him. Abelas tipped his head towards her, observing from the security of his hood. She was even shorter than he remembered from their brief meeting -- hardly to his shoulder, yet not wearily thin as many of her kind. The ones that hid in the forests around the temple. 

"Abelas,” she said, voice firm. “Why are you here? If you are looking for Solas, he has disappeared.”

“Your elvhen companion.” 

She nodded hesitantly. "If you say so."

Her face was cast in the glow of the fire, Mythal’s vallaslin drawn in a deep shade of red. The wearer was ignorant of its significance. He turned back toward the flames. 

“I have not come for him.”

She was ignorant of so many things. Fen'Harel had not given himself away -- it would have been most unexpected if he had. She did not know him for who he was, elvhen and a rebel leader. Abelas had no reason to suspect he would see him again. He did not keep roots, but wandered to his whim. Abelas had heard the Inquisition defeated their mutual enemy, and so Fen'Harel's presence depended on whether his ploy in the plot had completed. It appeared it had ended, and according to what her bitter eyes said when she did not -- the Lord of Tricksters did not leave without first earning his reputation. 

“Then you must be here for me.” She edged around him, surveying with those plain brown eyes. They did not own the same depths that hers had held. Those that were closed too soon.

“There is no one else you would consider entreating with here. It must be me you have _ trespassed _ for. And when we’re done, you shall be permitted to depart.”

She flung his own words from the temple back at him. Abelas studied the lines around her face again, those that mirrored his own. She was bolder than he remembered. He would like her for it. Unfortunately, it would only make what he had to do that much harder. 

***

Ellana felt like a young apprentice again, sneaking around at night, careful of her footsteps, remembering how to move as silently as the master hunters. Abelas trailed behind her, hands still clasped behind his back. The library in the vaults was quiet and free of nearby guards and she drew him down for added privacy. And a sense of calm when her stomach stayed in knots. It was her place of solace, where Ellana could read books and discover knowledge long lost. Did her passion for lost things come from being one of the dalish, or something entirely of her own? Did it matter?

She wasn't sure what drove her, but part of Ellana always searched for more, thirsted for more. When her parents could not provide the answers as to why things were or how they came to be, she pestered her Keeper. Much to Keeper Deshanna's dismay, not a drop of magic flowed in Ellana's veins. With a bit of power, she would have been a perfect First. 

Ellana shook her head at the memory. So much for old wishes. They only came true in twisted ways. Now she had a bit of power, but was further from being a First than ever before. 

She lit the candelabra on a wall with a long match from a drawer. Before turning about the room to light the rest, Abelas flicked his wrist, flames bursting to life. Ellana placed her striking box back, then leaned against the edge of the desk. Even here he reigned -- seemingly incapable of being beneath her.

She pointed to a straight-backed chair, perfect for keeping one from nodding off while reading texts. "Please sit."

Even from her vantage, Ellana still was unable to see beneath his hood.

“What do you want of me?”

Abelas finally looked misplaced, suddenly beneath her gaze rather than the reverse. He shifted enough to make her wonder if he was uncomfortable with her directness. Then he spoke and all her thoughts on his discomfort washed away. 

“I would come to rid you of the voices you no doubt wish to be free. To restore them to where they belong -- in Mythal’s temple.”

Ellana raised her chin, straightened her back. “And what makes you think I wish to be rid of them?”

She hadn't even considered it once since drinking from the well, not even when Solas reemed her and scolded her for the impossible choice. She still burned over that confrontation. Besides, the voices mostly left her alone now that Mythal’s bidding was done. 

“The vir’abelasan is not meant for one person. It was collective wisdom meant to pass undisturbed through the ages. With the absence of Mythal, we must preserve and honor her as best we can. The other sentinels have gone. They have entered uthenera or sought out your kind in the forests. I was unsure at first -- too angry to think. But now I believe what has been taken can be freely given again. If you honor Mythal -- which your vallaslin indicates so -- then you must do this.”

“Must I?” Ellana laughed. “There is no use of knowledge if you never intend to use it. I can’t imagine all of this information sitting in those waters again, festering for the rest of eternity.” He did not respond. Ellana pushed off the table’s edge and walked around to trace a row of books. “When I came here, this library was in tatters. Cobwebs stretched from the floor to above my head. There was so much to discover here. I wonder who left it all behind to rot?”

Abelas laughed bitterly. “You compare this to the vir’abelasan? These human books?”

Ellana tapped the edge of a volume on druffalo farming twice. She looked back to Abelas. “I think all knowledge is worth having.”

He stood up. Impressive was the only word that came to mind. Abelas was taller than Solas -- just so. Ellana gulped down a sudden impulsive thought. He strode to the shelf where she lingered and leaned above her, forearm resting against the wood. “And what happens to that knowledge when you die?”

Finally she could see his golden eyes. They flickered with annoyance. Now the only word that came to mind was pompous.

“I guess you will have to wait and find out.”

***

It was only a matter of time before she would return to him, asking for answers to other questions she so desperately sought. He’d offered to wait, in response to her solution. And so she had deposited him here, in quarters far removed from anyone else -- an unused tower at the top of the castle’s walls. An elven servant had sent him a pallet, backing out of the door as if Abelas was some sort of holy figure. It made him chuckle ruefully, the sort of myths the modern elves placed around the days of Elvhenan.

Besides walking the battlements and laying on his pallet, there was not much to occupy. No one stopped by, but he watched people down in the courtyard, doing ordinary tasks and socializing amongst the races. Humans outnumbered the rest think by far. To think that Fen'Harel's castle held mostly humans made him chuckle in earnest. 

Her stubbornness could not outlast his own. Abelas had nothing but time; the order of things could still be restored as long as she remained alive. However, he could not help grow more curious about her. People spoke the name Inquisitor with the same kind of reverence one might have had for Mythal. He was incredulous. How could it be? At the temple, it hardly mattered who she was. She lead the second intruding party that meant to vanquish the first. He needed no more. Here in what appeared to be her fortress, he did not feel _wrong_ about not having her real name (a degree of seperation was required of his task to be complete), rather intrigued. He blamed boredom. The droll routines of waiting dictated his thoughts. 

On the sixth day he learned her name by accident.Abelas kept domain over the edge of the wall, looking out to the courtyard, the vendors hawking their wares. Beneath him, the stablemaster lodged a complaint. 

“He doesn’t make a sound, but the horses know he’s there, Ellana. They don’t like it.”

Her airy laugh floated up to him. “Neither do I, but he insisted on staying.”

The old human grumbled. Abelas wondered why he spoke so informally, without the use of her title.

“If its going to be for more than a few day's time, then you should consider moving him. Unless you want me trampled to death. Or a stampede in the middle of your fortress.”

A strange desire to lean over and see her reaction struck Abelas. His brow furrowed and he held his limbs stiff in response. What did it matter how she reacted?

“I’ll ask him today, Dennet. I promise.”

She kept her word, arriving just as the sun began to dip beyond the mountains. Ellana -- for that was her true name -- appeared next to him at the edge of the wall, this time looking out to the great range. She dressed differently than before, a tunic paired with thick leggings similar to his own, her bare, sculpted arms glistening with a sheen of sweat. Her short, golden hair stuck to the back of her neck, and her cheeks still showed the flush of exertion. 

“I like to come up here after I train,” she said. “I would have come up whether you were here or not.” 

He did not offer a response -- uncaring of her routines or the continuation of the topic. Ellana took several deep breaths before exhaling, then expelling her words with a force. 

“Do you really plan to stay indefinitely?”

“Yes.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And if I leave? What then?”

“I will follow you.”

She huffed and slapped her palms on the uneven stone. “You're bothering my mounts. I can’t have you following me around, or looming over everyone like you are lord of the castle.”

“I do not loom like a lord,” he said, frowning at the idea. 

“You do. My people have complained.” She pivoted to him, one hand still on the stone, hip to wall. “I will go with you to the temple, but on a single condition. You must answer all of my questions. I will not lose all this knowledge without gaining some in return.”

It seemed she still did not understand what he was truly asking of her. That could come later, he supposed. It was better to be moving towards his goal then sitting on top of this mountain in the freezing cold. He did nothing for Mythal up here, in Fen'Harel's domain.

He bowed his head. “Then you will ask me what you wish. But on the way. We should depart now.”

Her eyes widened. Ellana pushed back a strand of wind-blown hair. “Through the eluvian?”

_ If only, _ Abelas thought. He sighed, resigned to what was soon to pass. 

“The eluvians are closed. Otherwise I need not have walked through your gate several evenings ago. We must travel the slow way.”

She smiled brightly. “More time for questions, then.”

***

The best route to Mythal's temple meant passing through Emprise du Lion. It was also the coldest path. Ellana had never cared for the region: the twisting frozen river, the onslaught of red templars, the slaves -- cages upon cages of slaves. She rubbed her forehead absently. Was Abelas once a slave? 

That wasn't the proper question to start with. So far they'd had little time to speak, picking their way down the mountain paths. Ellana rode her Ferelden Forder, Enathe, true from the very beginning of her journey as Inquisitor. For Abelas, the Hart was the only mount willing to bear him. 

Out of the foothills, icy winds began whipping across them, freezing her face and hands. Snow obscured Ellana's view. Abelas was barely visible behind her, the Hart's bellowing call the only sign he still followed. Enathe pushed on -- the horse was familiar with snow and poor conditions. But Ellana still wasn't. 

The river was to her left. If she kept going along it, they'd stumble on one of the Inquisition camps nearby. She yelled, hoping Abelas could hear. 

"To shelter!"

She waved her arm towards the river's edge, sparking the anchor, knowing the green light would be visible no matter the weather. 

No one was there. Ellana pushed her horse to ride into the cave mouth. She dismounted once the winds could no longer reach them, deep into the cavern. Abelas was not far behind. Head bowed as to not hit the ceiling, he slid off the Hart gracefully. The animal walked towards Enathe, who was already chewing oats from a handbasket, leaving Abelas and Ellana to stand awkwardly apart. 

"I believe they abandoned camp for Suledin keep," she said after a long moment without address. He only nodded, turning to observe their accomodations until the storm blew itself out. 

It dawned on her that the elves of Elvhenan probably knew very little about sleeping outdoors or pitching a tent or starting a fire by hand. Or doing much of anything without the assistance of magic. It also occured that a stay in abandoned cavern was the perfect opportunity to gather as many bits of knowledge as she could. 

"Have you ever set a fire that wasn't by magic?" 

She asked with her back to him, searching for Inquisition supplies in a turned-about corner of the cave. 

"No," he replied. "Not that I ever would have. It was not my position to light the fires. A servant would have done so."

"There were servants? I thought your vallaslin was for slaves? Or, so I was told." She tried to keep the reproach from her tone, but could not help sounding critical, thinking of how she gained that insight. 

She stumbled on a chest filled with kindling, flint and various other supplies. Another chest glinted nearby, and she gathered up tent poles and stakes. Ellana would have to return for the canvas tarp, too heavy to carry. 

"There were, as a fact, slaves. I was neither a servant nor a slave." The voice was deep, and immediately behind her. Ellana jumped, surprised by his approach. Abelas took the canvas tarp out of the chest. "My role was -- _is_ \-- Mythal's sentinel. I watched over her temple in her downfall, and before she was slain, I served as her high priest. I would have given my memories to the vir'abelasan as my role required." 

"And you did so willingly -- you took this role of your own free will? Knowing they were never truly gods?"

Abelas faltered in his steps as they walked back towards their mounts. He carried the heavy tarp over a shoulder as if it was weightless. Ellana perceived an internal struggle, as if unsure of how to answer. 

"I was not a slave," he repeated. "But it was the practice of the Evanuris to keep slaves. Mythal was different than the rest. She was not filled with greed or pride, but cared for our people. She cared for all of the people. How could I not devote my life to serving her? It felt as if I had a chance to change the very world by convincing others to follow her word." 

He turned to Ellana. "You may ask all the questions you wish, but you will never understand how it was then." 

They built the tent in silence, Ellana surprised at his readiness to help given his cold demeanor. She had not meant to insinuate anything about his decisions, yet she felt he'd taken it as such. Was an apology in order? Did she owe him that much? Abelas was the one who barged into her fortress demanding her compliance. Yes she was receiving information and answers in return, but the cost meant taking a large detour in her own life. By the time she built the wood up for the fire, he set the flames alight with his magic. 

"There's no need to do it by hand," he said.

A grin crept up on her. Surely he wasn't trying to be charming, or attempting to smooth over the roughness of their conversation. 

The little camp was set. Ellana took out her bedroll and retrieved his from his pack, crossing where he sat by the fire, staring deep within. His eyes latched on her as she walked past. Ellana didn't know how to move forward -- was it too early to sleep? It was considerably dark given the snowfall blocked the sun. She was far from hungry, her stomach a bit unsettled from feeling anxious. As much as she hated it, she cared whether or not he was upset. Or at least, she told herself, she cared if he was now judging her for something unintentional.

"I'm going to rest," she said from the edge of the tent. "I've made a place for you as well whenever you are ready." 

Much to her surprise, he stood from the hard ground and followed her inside. She took place on her bedroll immediately, casting out her blanket like a net, letting it settle over her. He repeated the motions, cozying into place. Their closeness felt intimate in the small space.

"This is how close we laid our bedrolls together in my clan. Especially if it is cold." 

She squeezed her eyes shut at the admission, feeling like a _Dahn’direlan, _explaining something that needed no explanation. Why was she nervous?

"I slept next to my siblings like this many nights, before the fire in our parents' home in Arlathan." 

She popped her eyes open and turned to face him, curiosity renewed, anxiety gone.

"You had siblings? How many? What did they do? What has happened to them?" 

***

She asked him many questions about his life before his service to Mythal. Abelas was surprised at how much interest Ellana could have in a largely uneventful upbringing, but she clamoured for every detail until yawning overtook them both. She fell asleep first. He could still see the glow outside the tent, could still feel a cut of cold coming through despite that fire. Abelas used a bit of magic he'd not even considered in such a long time, comfort not being a priority for a sentinel. The glow of the fire replicated in his palm, and the immediate warmth settled over them both. He let it flicker out of existence, and then rolled to his side, facing her. 

T_hey reached the empty vir'abelasan. Ellana stood at the edge, gazing in, when suddenly another figure materialized through the eluvian. He grabbed her before she could escape him. But the hand grasping was met with a hand seeking. The figure came through fully. It was a wolf, solitary and silent. _

_Then it howled. _

Ellana sat up, clutching her hand. It sparked while she attempted to hide it beneath her cover. 

"There is no need," he said. "I'm also awake." 

She said nothing, but stopped fruitlessly shoving her brilliant beacon beneath the thin blanket. 

"We were in the fade together," she said, face still averted. 

As was the Dread Wolf, but Abelas did not feel like breaking that news with her. It felt cruel in the moment. Like kicking a creature when it was already coiled on itself. She curled around her hand like it was a broken paw. 

"It would seem that way." He reached out a hand to take her marked one. It so closely echoed their dream that she gave him a wide-eyed look. "If it is a discomfort, I can offer you some relief." 

She placed her palm on top of his. "When I have these dreams that wake me, then it aches until I can't fall back asleep." 

Abelas was not the most proficient healer, but the blue light that cast around her hand was of many lesser spirits. Eventually she loosened her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. He stopped and relinquished her palm. 

"I hope that helped." She smiled and nodded. Before she became too comforted, he added, "We have much time to make up for tomorrow."

Her smile faded. 

He had to stay resolute.

*** 

No night had been as intimate as the evening in the cave, nor as revealing either. Ellana continued asking Abelas questions for the rest of their journey -- three weeks on end -- and he answered them all, but reservedly. As if they did not share a dream in the fade, albeit a brief one. She didn't need to ask who the wolf was, Fen'Harel was obvious to spot. Whatever it meant, it could not be good. 

However, by the time they reached the empty well, going through Mythal's puzzles once again much to her dismay, there was no wolf to greet them. The eluvian was still shut. 

The broken scene, with the empty vir'abelasan and sealed eluvian, could not have been easy for Abelas to process. And yet, he seemed as confident as ever leading her up the steps. He placed her at the edge, took a deep breath, then raised his hands above his ever-hooded head. Water flooded from thin air, filling the basin. The voices within her head began to chatter, as if finally witnessing something worth discussing after weeks of silence while they travelled. She flinched at the conflict of her thoughts with those within. No matter what they tried to say, there was no convincing her to enter the waters another time. 

The waters stilled and he turned to her, his chin held high. Before he could make a pronouncement, and say anything he'd not be able to take back, Ellana spoke. 

"You think I don't know why you brought me, but I understand."

He was silent for a blessed moment. Ellana watched a subtle shift take place in him, as if he was the very water he poured, but solidifying. 

"I don’t think you do. You willingly would enter the vir’abelasan? You would not return?"

Ellana wanted to shout. Why would he think that she would do such a thing? She forced calmness instead.

"No. I thought you would change your mind. I thought you would see, as I became to see, that we must move on." He looked unconvinced. 

"You would do this for me? You would waste your own time traveling here despite knowing my intentions."

"I --" She stumbled. It wasn't for him. At first. "I really did want to know more from you, about the past." 

He turned an open palm back to the pool of water, sitting placidly, despite what taking a dip entailed. "And what will you do with this knowledge? What can you offer the world that the vir'abelasan cannot?"

Ellana felt gutted. How could someone spend so much time together, but feel nothing for their companion? Bile rose in her throat.

"I offered my life! What it was supposed to be." She thrust her hand forward. "This is more than anyone should bear. No one should have this power and yet I do! A simple hunter from a clan far from your temple. And yet, Mythal entrusted me with her knowledge, with her guardian. She aided our victory, my victory, to save all of Thedas. Even the people you disdain. I've served the greater good already!"

"What do you mean?" He strode to her side and gripped her upper arm. "You saw Mythal? Is she..."

Ellana pulled her arm free. "Mythal is not gone. She met me at her alter. Her spirit is carried by a human woman who has done so for Mythal for ages."

He took a few stumbling steps backwards. "That cannot be true. I would know. She would--" His heel caught the edge of the well and for a moment, Ellana swore he was about to let himself topple in. It didn't stop her from reaching out instinctively. He took her steadying hand.

"Where is she?"

"I don’t know that."

"Why did she not come to us? To me? _Teleolasan--"_

He fell to his knees. The force of it knocked back his hood, revealing the full extent of his face, his vallaslin, the shaved sides of his head and the long, white braid that tucked into his cloak. Her first thought was telling. 

_Thank Mythal he is not bald. _

He was clearly having a moment of crisis and yet Ellana was fawning over his appearance. She simply had not expected... that. Had she found him handsome before? She ground her teeth, annoyed with herself in the moment, and sat on her haunches next to him instead to offer a kind word. Even though he had been carelessly insensitive minutes ago, she did not have to be. 

"Abelas, I think she wanted you exactly where you were. To help me. I think she knew what could come to pass."

He clutched her hand. "Tell the voices to call for her. Tell her to come."

"I'm sorry," she said. "But both of us know it doesn't work that way."

***

He stayed out of her dreams, out of her sight, but he would not permit her to leave. Days had passed since Ellana's news tore down his understanding of himself, his purpose, of Mythal. He considered uthenera first, then realized in a rage that Ellana could have been tricking him -- a revenge for what he had intended for her. But then Abelas calmed down and reason prevailed. That kind of deception was not in her nature. She told him as a kindness, a service to free himself from what she perceived as chains. Ever since Fen'Harel had painted it so. 

She would starve in the temple if he kept her too long. There was no food to speak of inside the great doors. By now she would be famished. He had felt a great deal of numbness outside the flashes of anger, but now he felt nothing but shame. 

He went outside alone. To the wilds to process and find fruit or game he could bring for his captive.

Had he gone mad? He never intended to keep her here. But the vir'abelasan -- there were many years left in her life, but they hardly compared to his own. He could wait, keep her safe inside the temple. Then Mythal would know his devotion. Would see how committed to her he was not only in his lifetime, but the lifetime of the Inquisitor as well. 

He returned with plenty of berries and nuts from the surrounding forest. It wasn't much of a feast, but it was a start. 

Ellana paced in his old chambers, waiting for him. She was weary, the light in her eyes had dimmed, her skin pallid, her hair limp. He had done this in his neglect. 

"I'm sorry," he offered. Abelas laid out his findings on a golden platter. She glanced at it, then waved it away as if her matters were more important. 

"Abelas, we should leave this place."

"We? I understand why you should want to leave. But I am bound." 

Ellana sat on the edge of the gold-inlaid chaise. Her clothing put her sorely out of place with the rest of the temple -- it was too practical, too used. It fit her well, though. It showed off her strength, her status as a leader. One who earned the title. If she seemed misplaced, it was the temple's failings and not her own.

"I know it is a different time, a different age, and world. But you do not have to live at her feet anymore. You don't deserve that. It was a good life then, it isn't any longer." She patted the cushion beside her. He joined her side, finding it not in the least awkward or distasteful. It was calming. 

"I never meant to insinuate before that you wasted your life in service to Mythal. Or you were forced or coerced. I agree that I will never truly be able to understand what your life was like, or anyone else during that time. But without asking those questions, I would not know you like I do now. That is why knowledge is so important to me, and that is why I came on this journey. To listen. The more I understand and learn the more I can appreciate about the world and the other people in it. I grew up in the shadows of your glorified life. It isn't comforting to hear it was blown out of proportion, beyond recognition. But I had to move on from what I held so closely before. It hurt -- it still hurts, but I think you can do it too. I think you will find you have more to give the world than this."

He cleared his throat. He hadn't thought before about how she had been taught stories about Mythal that weren't exactly true. Stories about his own way of living. He was shut inside the temple and the elves outside began to fill in the blanks the vir'abelasan could have filled. He could have filled. 

"It doesn't change that I am bound to serve her. I've given up my name twice over for Mythal. I would give up my happiness as well. Anything for her."

Her eyes grew wide again, like they did whenever he surprised her with something he said or a gesture not born of selfishness. He had begun to enjoy seeing the reaction. 

"You loved her. You didn’t just follow her. You loved her." 

True understanding began to dawn on Ellana's face. Real, honest knowledge that Abelas had to look away from. Her disbelief too raw. He knew he wasn't supposed to love Mythal in that way. None of them were. 

"How could I not?" he asked, looking at their feet, side by side. He felt twisted and ashamed. By the truth of it. "You do not know what she was in her fullness. This version you have met, a wisp of Mythal carried by a human witch? It pains me to think of her thus. You would have loved her too." 

She placed her warm, battle-tested hand over the back of his own. She had rougher hands than he from years of practice with the sword. It felt reassuring, the weight of her concern tangible. 

"I can only assume you’re right. I don’t know what its like to love a god. I only loved once in my life and he deserted me. Solas told me these markings that you and I share, were for slaves and asked me if I wanted to remove it. He took something meaningful to me and threw it away without much care for how it fell to the floor. Despite saying he loved me and I was perfect, he still had to let me know one last time how wrong and foolish my people were." 

She sighed deeply. "But, I've moved on." 

He wanted to tell her. It burned his throat. They were beyond the point of lying now. So many secrets spilled. But how could he? She’d shattered his understanding of _ everything _when she said Mythal lived. Could he do the same? He’d sensed some attachment to Fen’Harel, but never suspected... To love Mythal from afar was one thing, to love such a trickster was another. Abelas felt an anger rise in him. A renewed distate for the Evanuris. A new distaste for Fen'Harel, despite his loyalty to Mythal. Again, he recognized what shutting away the vir'abelasan had allowed. 

He gripped her hand tighter. Looked her in the eyes and apologized.

“I am sorry for what you have endured. For taking you here, for what I said as well. In my long service it seems I have lost the concepts of companionship and empathy. I was rude and unkind. _Ir abelas_, Ellana." 

"I accept your apology, Abelas. Thank you."

"It is you I should be thanking. You have given me wisdom and I am grateful for the perspective. But it still doesn't change the circumstances at hand. I have no life beyond these walls, beyond Mythal. You may go, but there is nothing else for me. A long time ago I chose to become sorrow."

She angled her body towards him, her knee touching his thigh.

"If you were free to choose then, aren't you free to choose now?" Warmth radiated from her whenever she had an idea. “Come with me. I haven’t seen my family since," she raised her palm, "this happened. Come see what my people are like. Perhaps you can teach them what you know, perhaps this is how you serve the greater good." 

Abelas was stunned at the sense her words were beginning to make. He had to admit, he very much liked her. That would make the decision all that easier. 

***

Six months later

The ship was cramped, even in her quarters. Ellana was bringing much back to her clan. For in their new place in Wycome, they needed more furniture and drapery and finer things. Or so he had been told by the Ambassador. It didn't matter so much to Abelas. There was enough room on the floor to situate two bedrolls together, like Ellana used to do growing up. 

She joined him there, wearing only a long tunic. He had not seen her bare legs before. It was distracting. She was saying something and he owed her his attention.

"_Sathan sal’dirtha. _Say it again."

She curled on her side. "Josephine is holding a few requests for me, including one to go in the deep roads of all places, so I am not sure how long we can stay. But I need to see them."

Abelas idly traced the lines of her vallaslin. "And they all wear vallaslin. Anyone favored?"

"It depends who you ask. I knew of a few boys who swore up and down they would create one for Fen'Harel. Little rebels. They never did of course." She stole onto his bedroll on her stomach, primed for a question.

"Did you ever meet Fen'Harel?"

“I did. Once or twice.”

He wanted to tell her since the temple, but how could, he? Not before she saw her people. It would only crush her spirit. 

Her deep brown eyes reflected candle light, pools deeper than even the vir’abelasan. Containing not only all of the knowledge of Mythal, but also a beautiful, sensible, and wise soul of her own. He would tell her. He would. In time.

“After we see your people, then I’ll tell you all I know. I give you my word.”

“I guess I will have to wait and find out." 

Ellana smiled broadly, leaning over his chest. She kissed him quickly and pulled back, smile gone. "I'm sorry if I-- I'm just so excited, really." 

He grinned in return. She always had a little excuse for her feelings. He knew why. 

"Only be sorry if you do not intend to do it again."

They twined together. The flames dampened with a half-earnest flick of the wrist and they fell into black.

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope this ticks some of your boxes! What an intriguing couple. This touches lightly on some themes, and very heavily on others. And very clearly I thought a shared passion for knowledge seemed like a fixed point for what they do have in common. 
> 
> Also, I felt Lavellans have suffered enough. Ellana has fully moved on from Solas, but I thought it interesting to explore what Abelas would be like if he love loved Mythal. It seems entirely possible that he could have felt deeply for her, beyond duty. 
> 
> From Project Elvhen  
Dahn’direlan -- idiot  
Teleolasan -- I don't understand  
Sathan sal’dirtha -- please say that again
> 
> If I was a master, I'd have picked up more for Abelas to say in Elvhen, but consider him uncharacteristically helpful in terms of speaking in a way Ellana can always understand.


End file.
